


Anniversaries and Anonymous Agents

by MotherOfBeardedDragons



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, and everyone gets a hug, clint and natasha are badass spies, clint and natasha help their team, fluff with some feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfBeardedDragons/pseuds/MotherOfBeardedDragons
Summary: After realizing everyone on their team has a terrible anniversary that haunts them (that day when their life changed, fell apart, they lost someone etc.) Clint and Natasha decide to take action. They make a list of everyone and their terrible anniversaries and use their badass secret agent spy skills to make it better. They anonymously plan secret surprises to help their teammates on these tough days.





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon compliant through Thor Ragnarok. As far as the timeline, I’m using a headcanon that everyone buried the hatchet after Civil War and Tony didn’t sell the tower, but turned it into Avengers Tower again. I’m also ignoring Infinity War and working with the headcanon that the people of Asgard (and Bruce) made it to Earth and settled somewhere. Also Matt Murdock is an Avenger. 
> 
> This idea popped into my head after realizing every Avenger team member has been through some shit. Like, that's not a new observation, but you can pinpoint exact days in their lives when things went to hell. A lot of us have those days, those terrible anniversaries (though maybe not quite so bad) that we have to get through. I thought it would be interesting to explore. 
> 
> Clint and Natasha are secretive by trade and would keep their days to themselves but would make it their mission to make it better for their teammates. At least, that's the headcanon.

   Everyone had their days. Those dates that ingrain themselves in your memories forever. The date that your life changes, someone’s life ended, you lost something, became someone else. Those terrible anniversaries. Who would know better about those days than two spies? Clint and Natasha had been sitting down to breakfast when Steve walked by. He nodded at the two, grabbed a granola bar, and made his way to the gym. The soldier usually stopped to talk in the mornings when he saw his teammates to see how everyone was doing and make plans for the day.

   “What’s up with him?,” Clint asked as he took a swig of his coffee.

   “Maybe he’s just having an off day,” Natasha remarked.

   “He’s been acting weird lately.” Clint had noticed that Steve seemed more withdrawn, almost nervous the past few days.

   “Well the anniversary is coming up.”

   “Anniversary?,” Clint asked confused.

   “The plane crash. When he went under the ice,” Natasha replied as if Clint should know this shit.

   “Oh man. I forgot. No wonder he’s down. I wish there was something we could do for the guy.”

   “I don’t think Rogers wants anyone’s sympathy. There’s a reason why he’s kept this to himself. He probably just wants the day to pass without anyone making a big deal out of it,” Natasha pointed out.

   “Yeah, I get it. But I still don’t want to ignore him. Maybe there’s a way we can do something for him without him knowing.”

   “Like what?,” Natasha asked, intrigued. She wanted to help Steve without stepping into his personal boundaries.

   “I don’t know, like something to cheer him up. A good meal, a present. Something to put a smile on his face. But secret, so he doesn’t know who did it.”

   Natasha paused for a minute. “That could work.”

   “Of course it could work, I’m a genius,” Clint replied smirking.

   Natasha rolled her eyes, “Sure you are. If we’re gonna do this we need to start planning now. Steve’s a smart guy and a soldier. We’ll have to be stealthy.”

   "Stealthy is my middle name," Clint said, posing dramatically. 

   "Sure it is, Francis."

   "Shut up."

   The two spies met up later and pulled up blueprints of the tower. They also scrolled through Steve’s minimal social media accounts to get some ideas. They finally settled on a plan. They had three days.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Steve looked at the clock and sighed. He knew he needed to get moving. He needed to do something, anything, to distract himself. He almost wished aliens or something would attack if only to give him something to focus on other than the damn day. Of course, he didn’t really mean it. He wouldn’t want innocent people to suffer because he couldn’t get it together and face his problems. Everyone on the team had things from their past they had to deal with and he was no different. He needed to be a leader.

   He knew he had been off the past few days, but he had done his best to act as normal as possible. He thought maybe with time this day would be easier to deal with, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He sighed and forced himself out of bed. He slowly got dressed, trying to ignore the thoughts flashing through his head. Peggy. The sound of the plane’s engines. Ice cold water. Panic and darkness. He shook his head, taking a deep breath. He’d get breakfast and go to the gym.

   Steve walked out into the dining area and saw several to-go boxes with a note. Intrigued, he went over and was surprised to see that they were for him. They were from a little family-owned restaurant in Brooklyn. He remembered eating there as a kid. It had moved, but was still there and being run by the same family. He liked to eat there when he was feeling out of place and homesick. He hadn’t thought anyone knew about it.

   “FRIDAY, who delivered these?,” he asked, curious.

   “I don’t know sir.”

   “You don’t know?,” he replied in confusion.

   “My files have been wiped. I believe whoever delivered them wanted to remain anonymous.”

   Steve raised an eyebrow. He could ask Tony to look and see if he could find out who it was, but that would probably involve explaining what day it was and why this restaurant was significant. He decided to just enjoy the breakfast.

   He was pleased to find generous helpings of all of his favorites. He sighed as he took a bite of the delicious french toast. It tasted the same as it did when he was a kid, the recipe having been handed down through the generations. He felt a little better once he finished breakfast. There was a reason it was called comfort food. He decided to continue onto the gym.

   He was about thirty minutes into his workout (and had killed three punching bags) when Sam came into the room.

   “Hey man. Already hard at work destroying Stark’s gym equipment?,” he asked amused.

   “He can afford it,” Steve said grinning. Tony had tried to design super soldier-proof punching bags but had yet to perfect the design. These punching bags lasted a little longer than the normal ones though. “What’s up? Is everything ok?”

   “Yeah, I just wanted to show you these. Found them at my house this morning. I feel like it could be a trap, but honestly I don’t really care. Might be worth it.” Sam held up three tickets to a New York Yankees baseball game for that afternoon. They were playing the Red Sox and the tickets were for luxury box seats.

   “You don’t have any idea where they came from?,” Steve asked, briefly thinking of his mystery breakfast.

   “No. But I called the stadium and they’re legit. Said they were purchased by ‘a friend of the Avengers’. The note said they’re for you, me, and Bucky.”

   Steve paused for a moment. “It could be a trap.”

   “Yeah, but they’re luxury box seats.”

   Steve hadn’t been to a baseball game in a long time. Plus, he knew Bucky would love to go. Besides, if it were a trap it would be better for them to be there to protect people. He looked at Sam’s excited expression. It would be nice to spend the day with his two closest friends. “Let’s do it.”

   “Yes! I haven’t been to a baseball game in forever. I don’t know who bought these tickets, but if they don’t try to murder us they’re my new hero.”

   Steve smiled. “If not trying to murder you is all it takes for someone to be your friend then the bar is pretty low.”

   “Look who I hang out with. Of course not trying to kill me is high on the list of qualities I look for in someone,” Sam replied laughing. “The game’s at four. Wanna grab metal arm and meet me at the parking deck at three?”

   Steve looked at his watch. That would give him time to finish his workout and get cleaned up. “Sounds good.”

   A few hours later he and Bucky piled into Sam’s Jeep. Bucky had been excited about the game, although wary of a potential trap. But they figured between the three of them they could hold their own. Anyway, it might actually be a gift from a well-meaning fan.

   Bucky knew what day it was. He knew Steve didn’t want to talk about it, but he had given him a hug and told him he was there for him. Steve had told him he was grateful for his friendship. He knew Bucky was there for him no matter what.

   The three finally made it to the stadium and were blown away by the private suite. There was a full bar inside as well as a lounge area, TV, a private restroom, and their own server. There was a large window that opened up to a row of outside seats. The view was perfect. The three decided against fancy drinks and food and instead ordered beer, hot dogs, and pretzels. Steve found himself forgetting about the date for a while as he and his two best friends enjoyed the game. Sam snapped a selfie of the three of them and sent it to Steve. The Yankees lost, but it was close and they played a good game.

   And no one had tried to attack them, so that was always good. Steve smiled. That meant there was someone that was a friend of the Avengers that just genuinely wanted them to have a good time. Part of him felt slightly weird about accepting someone’s charity, but seeing his friends have an amazing day had really put a smile on his face. Overall, he was grateful to his mysterious benefactor. He had tried to get information on who had bought the tickets and owned the box, but had been met with a dead end. The person had wanted to remain anonymous and had probably used a fake name anyway. Steve decided not to use the “I’m Captain America” card to dig deeper (even though he thought about it). The person had wanted to remain anonymous and he’d have to respect their privacy.

   The three of them talked about the game and the team on the way home and analyzed the mistakes they had made. They decided to get together to watch the next game together and maybe go see another game later in the season. The three of them arrived back at the tower to find everyone preparing for a movie night. None of them had reliable schedules so movie nights tended to be spontaneous instead of planned.

   “All right. Time to decide who picks,” Tony announced, setting an empty bottle on the floor. He had started the tradition of playing spin the bottle to see who would pick the movie. Everyone gathered around.

   “My turn to spin!,” Clint said jumping up. He gave the bottle exactly enough momentum to land on his target.

   “And it’s Steve. Make it a good one,” Tony said, handing Steve the remote. After a few minutes he decided to pick his favorite movie. He hadn’t seen it in a while, and everyone seem satisfied with his choice. They all settled in with popcorn, soda and snacks. Half the team passed out before the movie finished. Steve sat talking to Bucky for a while after the movie finished before Tony woke everyone up and ushered them all to bed.

   “You all need your beauty sleep. Some more than others.”

   “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, Stark. You’re gonna be up until all hours of the night in your lab.”

   “Does this face look like it needs beauty sleep?”

   Steve smiled as his teammates continued to banter. Bucky paused when they reached his room. “Look. I know you don’t want to talk. But, how are you doing? You’re welcome to hang out at my place if you want.”

   “You know. It actually hasn’t been as bad as I’d thought. It’s not been easy, but it’s actually been a pretty good day,” Steve said honestly. He’d still felt down, but he had had a good time with his friends and that was working to counteract his sadness.

   “It was actually a pretty good day,” Bucky said smiling. This made Steve smile. It always gave him joy to see his friend happy. Bucky had had a rough few years, but had made amazing progress. “I’m down the hall if you need me.”

   “I think I’m ok,” Steve said, slightly surprised. He actually was ok. “Thanks for everything. You and Sam...you made today a lot easier.”

   “Of course. I’m always here.” Bucky gave him a pat on the shoulder and continued onto his room.

   Steve entered his living room to find a large package in the middle of the floor. “Now what?” He approached the box and carefully opened it. Inside was a ton of art supplies. He spent the next ten minutes looking over the various paints, pencils, charcoal, sketch books, canvases, and even an easel. There were a few art books as well. This was all top quality stuff. Not many people knew about his hobby. He didn’t try to hide it, but he wasn’t always comfortable sharing his work.

   At this point he had given up on figuring out who his mystery friend was. They had been careful to cover their tracks so far. Besides, why would he waste time tracking them down when he could be using his new art supplies instead. He carefully organized everything at his desk he used for his art. He put on some of his favorite music (a mix of old and new) and worked on some sketches. He smiled at his work. He had decided to sketch the picture Sam had taken at the game earlier and was happy with how it turned out. He’d show Bucky tomorrow.

   As he got into bed that night Steve found himself tired from the day’s events. He had been worried that he would lie awake all night haunted by that day all those years ago. But he found himself drifting to sleep quickly. He had lost a lot, but he had also gained so much.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   “Well, I’d call that a success,” Natasha said as she and Clint sat sipping drinks on the balcony.

   “We pulled it off,” Clint said in agreement.

   “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

   “No. But I was trying not to be cocky.”

   Natasha snorted. “Since when?”

   “Shut up. Listen, I think since this was a success, maybe we should plan a follow-up.”

   “A follow-up?”

   “Yeah. I mean, it worked for Steve and it wasn’t that hard to pull off.” They didn’t have a hard time tracking down Steve’s favorite restaurant or manipulating FRIDAY’s files. She had been willing to help them. They knew Steve probably wouldn’t dig too far into it. They had used fake accounts and identities for securing the private luxury suite at the game. “We have a lot of teammates that have had a lot of bad things happen to them.”

   “A lot of anniversaries,” Natasha said, on the same page. She had been thinking of the same thing. “You’re saying we should figure out the bad dates everyone has and do something on each one.”

   Clint nodded. “It shouldn’t be hard to find out the dates. Plus, we have a formula now. Good food, fun activity with friends, and a gift. We could do it.”

   “Well, let’s get planning then,” Natasha replied.

   The two of them went to Natasha’s room and created an encrypted file. They wrote down all the names and events they could think of:

~~-Steve Rogers: Plane Crash (frozen in ice)~~

-Tony Stark: kidnapping and torture in Afghanistan

-Peter Parker: Uncle’s murder

-Bruce Banner: Gamma Incident (beginning of the Hulk)

-Thor: Destruction of Asgard

-Stephen Strange: Car accident (loss of surgical career)

-Matt Murdock: Accident (loss of eyesight)

 

   The two set to work looking up dates and brainstorming ideas. They then planned logistics and how they would execute their plans in secret. They were all stubborn (some more than others) and wouldn’t want any direct confrontation about the date or pity. They finally finished the majority of their plans and agreed to meet the nest week to finish.

None of their teammates would suffer a bad anniversary alone if they had anything to say about it.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s pretty much the format. I’ll go down the list. Some chapters might be shorter or longer than others and I'll combine some, but this is the basic gist of it. 
> 
> I’m not sure exactly in chronological order everyone’s events/anniversaries would be. I tried doing some research but it’s hard to get clear answers, plus accurate dates aren’t really the focal point of the series. So just pretend they’re all in the right order and that Clint and Natasha are super spies and know what they’re doing. 
> 
> I'm planning on doing two characters per chapter: Tony/Peter, Bruce/Thor, Stephen/Matt plus a bonus chapter. 
> 
> Also I'm very proud of my alliterative title.


	2. Tony and Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony deals with the memories of Afghanistan. Peter deals with the anniversary of his uncle's death. Fortunately, they have two anonymous friends to help them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to do two characters per chapter. They're two separate stories, but I'd rather do one longer combined chapter than several short ones. Plus I tried to pair up characters in a way that makes sense. 
> 
> With Peter, the MCU didn't deal with Uncle Ben so I just kind of took the basics of his story and made some stuff up.

   Tony Stark sighed as he set down the part he had been working on for the past couple of hours. It was a wiring job he had done countless times before, but he couldn’t concentrate. He decided to try again later instead of starting over yet again. He glanced at the clock and saw it was 3am. It was only three hours into the day and he was already out of sorts. 

   He knew he should try to sleep but he was afraid of the nightmares that would inevitably come. Although, nightmares about the cave might be a reprieve of sorts from the usual nightmares of falling through a portal or seeing his teammates die. He ran a hand through his hair and stood up, pacing the lab. His thoughts returned to Afghanistan. Explosions, shrapnel, blood. The excruciating pain and fear. Torture. So much death. He found himself absentmindedly touching the arc reactor. 

   Of course, at the time he hadn’t known what day it was. So it didn’t make sense really, to be so afraid of the anniversary; the date was irrelevant. All these years later it shouldn’t be this big a deal, but it was. He remembered years past when he drank himself into a stupor on this date. He wouldn’t let that happen this year. 

   He finally decided to get out of the lab and get some coffee; maybe a change of scenery would help his mental state. 

   He got off the elevator on the common floor. He had his own kitchens, but this was closer. He walked over to the coffee machine and was surprised to find a padlock on it  with a note. Of course, he could get a welding torch and be through the lock in a second, but he was intrigued. 

   He opened the note and saw a detailed blueprint of the tower with a path marked to his room. It stated: _“Time for bed. Follow the map for some tools to help. Coffee awaits you in the morning. PS the lock will explode if you tamper with it xoxo.”_ He rolled his eyes. The note was typed so he couldn’t tell who wrote it. 

   “FRIDAY, who did this?,” he asked. 

   “I don’t know boss.”

   “What do you mean you don’t know?”

   “I don’t have the information.”

   “Pull up the security footage for today,” he requested, confused. 

   “I don’t have it boss.”

   “What?”

   “The footage. I don’t have it. The cameras were disabled.”

   Tony sighed, “Why wasn’t there an alert that the cameras were down?”

   “There was. You set the lab to ‘do not disturb’ with only emergencies to be reported. This wasn’t an emergency.”

   “Son of a bitch,” Tony muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have time for games. He grabbed the Stark pad off the counter to run a security check and saw a note on the screen. _“Quit trying to figure out who did this and get your ass moving. The tower is secure.”_

   “Ok fine. We’ll do it this way then.” He set the tablet down and started off to his room. He was too tired and stressed out to figure out what was going on with the cameras. He’d figure it out later. Besides, he was curious about what the hell was going on. 

   “FRIDAY, run a security check.”

   “Already did boss. It’s all clear. The cameras are all functioning now.”

   Tony shrugged. He rounded the corner and pulled open the door to his room, surprised at what he saw. There was a pair of his favorite brand of pajamas on the bed. A teapot sat on the bedside table with a note saying _“drink me.”_ He sniffed and confirmed it was the chamomile tea he liked that Bruce had gotten him to try. Although, he’d never admit to anyone he liked tea. Especially chamomile. Next to the pot of tea was a plate of his favorite cookies. 

   He looked and saw that a new copy of his favorite book was lying on his pillow. On it was a sticky note directing him to the bathroom. He went in and saw all of his favorite shower products, and some new ones, stocked up. Meanwhile, a playlist of his favorite calmer music was playing. 

   He shook his head. This was so weird. He needed to figure out who did all this. Then again, he could do that in the morning. And it would be a shame to let all this stuff go to waste. As he stepped into the shower he realized he hadn’t thought about what day it was for the past hour. He had been too preoccupied with figuring out the mystery. He figured that was the point. Whoever had done this knew what day it was and wanted to distract him. But also do something nice for him. He hated to admit it, but it was kind of working.

   He finished his shower and found himself curled up in bed in the new pajamas and book. He sipped the tea and snacked on the cookies. He hadn’t spent a quiet night in bed in a long time. Usually he was in the lab or out doing things. It was a nice change of pace. He was actually glad someone lured him out of the lab to his own room, where he felt comfy and safe. He wanted to be alone, but he didn’t want to be lonely. He felt his eyes grow heavier as he slowly drifted off to sleep. 

   The night passed with only minor nightmares. He woke up at one point after dreaming about the cave, but had managed to fall back asleep pretty quickly after that. He had thought because of the date the nightmares would be really bad, but they had been no worse than usual. And they had definitely gotten better than from when he initially returned home. He got dressed and headed downstairs for some coffee. He actually felt rested, which was a unique feeling for him. He was pleased to find the allegedly exploding padlock was gone.

   He took his cup of coffee out on the porch, enjoying the warmth of the sun. That had been something he had missed in the cave. It was something he had taken for granted, like so many things. But not now. He saw that Clint was already out there drinking coffee. He was probably on his eighth cup at this point. 

   "Hey man," Clint said, nodding to Tony. 

   "Morning Legolas. Where's everyone else?" Tony had noticed the tower was suspiciously quiet. 

   "Nat convinced the team to go on a hiking trip," Clint explained. 

   "Why aren't you with them?" 

   Clint nodded to his ankle, which Tony now noticed had a brace on it. "Sprained it on a mission the other day. Nat told me to rest it. Or else."

   "Or else what?"

   Clint shrugged, "I was afraid to ask. Figured I'd just chill today. They wanted to invite you, but we didn't want to wake you up from one of the rare times you sleep."

   Tony waved a dismissive hand, "It's fine. I've got a ton of stuff to do in the lab today anyway. Much better than being out in nature."  

   The truth was Tony didn’t want to leave the tower today. He wanted peace and quiet and safety. He also didn’t want the pressure of social interaction. He wanted to focus on being ok instead of having to put effort into  interacting with other people. 

   Clint nodded, "Well, today'll be a good day to get stuff done. Better than being out there getting chased by bears or whatever."

   Tony snorted. "Being chased by bears would be a nice break from being chased by aliens and shit. It might actually be relaxing."

   Clint nodded. "You're not wrong."

  Tony leaned back in the chair and took a swig of coffee.  It would be nice having the tower to himself today. But it was also nice to know Clint was there if he needed someone. 

   The two drank their coffee in companionable silence for a while. They eventually parted ways with Clint telling him he’d be around.

   Tony decided to bring his tablet outside and take advantage of the great weather. He didn’t want to be stuck inside today. He wanted fresh air and sunshine. In his email was a message with a digital copy of his favorite movie attached from his mystery friend. He spent some time trying to trace the person through the email and through the tower’s security but kept running into dead ends. Whoever it was had covered their tracks well. Clint was the only one there right now, but he had been on a mission the day before. It couldn’t have been him. He finally decided to give up figuring out who it was and watch the movie. He hadn’t taken the time to watch it in a long time (despite being his favorite). 

   The rest of the day passed pretty peacefully. He had a few rough moments, but was able to distract himself for the most part. Clint had joined him for a while and they played some video games. He was feeling calmer by the end of the day and was able to have dinner with everyone. It was shawarma night. Everyone was so tired from the hike that it was a calm, quiet dinner, which is exactly what he needed. 

   As he worked in the lab that night, finally rewiring that damn part, he realized that this had been one of the least bad anniversary dates since Afghanistan. It hadn’t been the best day ever; he had still struggled with anxiety and depression throughout the day. But it hadn’t been the worst. Someone he knew, that cared about him, had known exactly what he needed and had looked out for him. It meant a lot to him. They obviously didn’t want their identity known. He decided to give up his search and just accept that he had people that cared about him during the tough times. That was enough.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Clint and Natasha met in her living room for some drinks. It had been a successful day. They had been able to hack into Tony’s receipts and social media to find some of his favorite things. It had been easy to place all the things while Tony was holed up in the lab. Clint had pretended to be on a mission that day so he’d have an alibi when he stayed behind the next day to keep an eye on Tony. 

   They had consulted an expert software engineer they knew for some pointers on covering their tracks.  Between that and their computer experience they managed to find a way to cover their tracks.  Clint had disabled the cameras with one of his signal blocking arrows. They had convinced FRIDAY to help them since it was for Tony’s own good. Natasha had convinced everyone to go on a hiking trip and leave Tony to get some sleep. Clint, or course, had faked a sprained ankle and had kept an eye on Tony. They made sure to have something Tony liked for dinner. 

   They felt like they had made the right call about Tony not wanting to go out on this day. He had made a comment one time, when he had been drinking, about how the tower, his home, made him feel safe- the complete opposite of what he he had felt in that cave. And that sometimes he needed peace and quiet every now and then. 

   The two of them opened up their computer file and started planning for the next approaching anniversary and what they might do.  

========================================================================================================

**Peter**

   Peter shot awake, choking back a scream. It all went rushing through his head: the blood, the cold feeling of shock and horror, Aunt May’s screams. It had been several years, but it hadn’t gotten any easier. He looked at the clock: 6:00 am. He sighed. It was summer, so he didn’t have school today. He almost wished he had the distraction of school, or at least the tower. He had told Mr. Stark he had plans today because he didn’t want to leave Aunt May alone. He, of course, didn’t tell Mr. Stark this. He gave some lame excuse. He knew Tony Stark was a genius; he’d probably figure it out; the story had made the news and there were articles out there. But he didn’t want to talk about it unless he had to. 

   It wasn’t just because it hurt to talk about it (it did; even he and Aunt May didn’t talk about it a lot. And he had only told Ned the basic details- and he was his best friend). He just didn’t want anyone, especially Mr. Stark, to think he was weak. He knew it was normal to be sad about losing someone you loved, especially violently, but it had been years. He shouldn’t get this torn up about it still; everyone has lost someone they care about. Mr. Stark had lost his parents. Captain America had lost everyone he knew (except Bucky, at least he had gotten him back). Thor had lost his entire planet. Today he had to be strong. He had to be there for Aunt May.

   He knew he wouldn’t be going back to sleep so he decided to get a shower then make breakfast. He’d make pancakes- Aunt May’s favorites. Well, they were her second favorite. French toast had been her favorite, but it had also been Uncle Ben’s. It made them too sad now to eat french toast. 

   He walked out into kitchen and was surprised to find a box on the counter. He looked around confused, then opened it. Inside was a packet of gourmet pancake mix, new plates and silverware (in his and Aunt May’s favorite colors- red and purple), really good coffee, new mugs, and a note. The note said that they hoped he had a good day and that this made breakfast easier. 

   He shrugged after a moment. It wasn’t a secret he liked to make Aunt May breakfast on special days. Although this wasn’t a special day as much as a terrible one. Someone had probably figured out the date and thought he’d like to make a nice breakfast. He wasn’t going to complain; it sure beat the cheap mix he had bought. 

   About an hour later he was almost finished. He had made a pile of pancakes, brewed coffee, and set the table. He hadn’t cooked in a while; it felt good. He wasn’t a great cook or anything, he could only make the basics really. But it was soothing in a weird way and it felt good to do something good for someone else. Cooking made other people happy. He liked to make people happy. Plus Uncle Ben had liked to cook.

   Peter quickly pushed the sad thoughts from his mind. He only wanted to think about happy times with his Uncle. Thinking about his Uncle at all was bittersweet, but it was worth it. He looked up as Aunt May came into the room, looking tired. She probably hadn’t slept well.

   “Peter! Wow. Did you do all this?,” she asked surprised. 

   Peter shrugged, “Someone dropped by a box of breakfast supplies. I think it might have been Mr. Stark maybe. He knows I like to cook breakfast sometimes. I’d say Ned, but he doesn’t have the money. Here sit down, have some coffee,” Peter rambled as he guided Aunt May to a chair. He knew she was usually quiet on this day and he felt like he needed to fill the silence. He decided to turn on the radio. 

   After a while there was a knock on the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Tony Stark standing there. He about fell over. 

   “Mr. Stark! What are you doing here?,” he said louder than he meant. Tony took a slight step back and looked at Peter amused. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just I really wasn’t expecting you.”

   “Well, since you bailed on me this afternoon to hang out with your hot aunt, which I don’t blame you for honestly,” Tony smirked at the panicked look Peter gave the living room hoping Aunt May didn’t hear, “I took the liberty of coming by to drop this off.” Tony held up a small box. 

   “I’m so sorry. I want to come this afternoon, it’s just. This isn’t the best…” Peter sighed. 

   Tony put a hand on his shoulder. “Kid I know. You don’t have to explain. You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. Trust me, I know what it’s like. Sometimes talking just doesn’t make it better. Just know if you do need or want to talk, you have a whole tower of people. Including me. Ok?”

   Peter nodded in shock. Tony  Stark didn’t normally talk about emotions and wasn’t usually this serious. He knew that Mr. Stark hated talking about feelings. He finally found his voice after a second, “Uh thanks. Really. Thank you.” He was relieved that Mr. Stark knew and didn’t want to force him to talk about it. A lot of people had made him talk- the police, teachers, therapists, doctors. They said it was healthy to talk. It was nice to not feel pressured to open up about those terrible memories if he didn’t want to. 

   Tony exhaled. He really hated this kind of stuff. Dealing with past tragedy. He wasn’t exactly the poster child for dealing with trauma well. He was terrified Peter would want to talk and he wouldn’t know what the hell to say. But part of him thought the kid might be a lot like him: just because you didn’t want to talk about a painful memory didn’t mean you were repressing it. It just meant you didn’t want to put yourself through the trauma again. He had talked about Afghanistan after it happened and it had helped, but now he was fine to leave it in the past. 

   “Do I smell pancakes?,” Tony said after a moment, inhaling deeply. 

   “Uh yeah, I made breakfast,” Peter replied finally, coming back into focus. 

   “I smell coffee. Good coffee,” Tony said barging in. 

   “Oh. Of course, come in Mr. Stark,” Peter said slightly apologetic that he hadn’t invited him in. Then again, Tony Stark never needed an invitation. Peter knew he definitely wasn’t a vampire. 

   “Good morning Aunt May,” Tony said slightly flirtatiously. Which for him was about normal. Peter was happy to see Aunt May smile at Tony’s antics.

   “Good morning Mr. Stark, I thought I heard you out there. I guess we have you to thank for this delicious breakfast.”

   Tony looked confused, “I thought Peter said he made it.”

   “Oh yeah. But the package. The stuff you sent? It wasn’t you?,” Peter said seeing Tony’s confusion. 

   “I didn’t leave any packages kid. Although there’s been a lot of mysterious things seeming to appear lately,” Tony said lost in thought about his experience a few months prior and the note he had gotten. Someone had e-mailed him and tipped him off about today. He had already known, and had planned to visit Peter, but someone else knew and had apparently sent a care package. 

   “That’s weird. I don’t know where it came from,” Peter said confused. He was pretty sure Ned couldn’t afford the nice stuff in there, but he couldn’t think of anyone else it could be. 

   “Well, I guess you’ve got a secret admirer. They’re fun, trust me I’ve got tons. Now give me some of those pancakes, they smell delicious,” Tony said already having gotten himself a cup of coffee. 

   Breakfast was actually really nice. Tony kept them entertained with stories about the Avengers and it made Peter happy to see Aunt May smile. And he always enjoyed spending time with Mr. Stark. Tony finally revealed what he had brought: it was the newest Stark Pad. And he wanted Peter to be one of the first to test it and give him feedback.

   “I want you to really put it through its paces. Video games, music, streaming, software, anything you can think of. I want to know all its strengths and weaknesses. You and Bruce are going to be my beta testers,” Tony explained. 

   “I’m testing a piece of technology with Dr. Banner?,” Peter asked with excitement. He was nowhere on the same level as Dr. Banner. He was one of his heroes. To share the same job as him was amazing. 

   “Yeah. You might be able to give him some pointers.”

   “Me, give Dr. Banner pointers?” Peter replied shocked. 

   “Yeah, I figured the three of us could meet next week and compare notes.”

   “That. That would be amazing,” Peter said with excitement. Tony saw the look of happiness in May’s eyes to see Peter so excited and happy.

   The three of them talked for a while longer. He could tell the two of them were down, they weren’t quite themselves. But they were ok. They had each other and they were making the best of things. Tony felt better; he had been worried. That’s why he had brought the Stark Pad by. He had finished it weeks ago but had decided to wait, not only to have an excuse to visit Peter, but to give him a project. Sometimes distractions and something to get excited about really helped. After a while Tony left and Peter and May prepared for their afternoon. 

   They had a ritual. They always went to visit Uncle Ben. They didn’t bring flowers, instead they brought rocks. That may sound weird, but Peter and Uncle Ben had collected rocks together. That was what had gotten Peter interested in science when he was young. So he and Aunt May kept an eye out for interesting stones and brought them  with them once a year. Of course, they visited the grave more than that. But this day was different.  

   They never went to the place it happened. Peter hadn’t been there since. He had thought about going and facing his fears; he felt like he should, that maybe he’d get some closure. But he knew he wasn’t ready and he’d accepted it. Maybe one day. For now that street corner haunted his nightmares enough. 

   It was a rough couple of hours. It always was. He and May talked, cried, sat in silence. Shared their anger and fear and sadness. It was hard, but they always felt at least a little better after. Sad, but like they had at least let go of some of the burden of grief. They always got ice cream and went back to the apartment for peace and quiet. They decided to get “Hulk-A-Hulk-A-Burning-Fudge”; Peter felt a little guilty not getting “Stark Raving Hazelnuts”, but he just wouldn’t tell Mr. Stark. 

   They got back to the apartment and found a card shoved under the door. Peter picked it up and set it on the counter. He really wasn’t in the mood for a sympathy card right now. He and Aunt May watched a few episodes of their favorite show and finished off the whole container of ice cream. Peter was getting a drink out of the fridge when he remembered the card. Someone had taken the time to send it, so he should probably read it. 

He looked at the card in shock and read it a second time. 

_ Peter,  _

_ You don’t know who I am and you don’t need to. But I wanted to give you and Aunt May something to create some happy memories during this difficult time. Inside you will  _ _ find an itinerary and tickets for a week long Caribbean cruise. There is also a gift card to buy clothes for your trip. Your flight is in two days.  _

_ PS Don’t try to figure out who I am. I know how to cover my tracks. Just enjoy it.  _

   Peter ran into the living room and showed Aunt May, who was also in shock. He called Mr. Stark who looked into it and told him that there was a legitimate booking for him and Aunt May. He had tried to trace it, but whoever had done it knew what they were doing. After talking they figured it would be safe. Tony could pull some strings and have extra security and screening on the ship. 

   So Peter and Aunt May went on a shopping trip the next day and quickly packed. It had been forever since they had been on vacation. It was perfect. They were able to get out of the city and all its memories, both bad and good. Peter was also able to test the Stark Pad out taking pictures. As Peter and Aunt May watched the sunset he knew next year around this time they’d have some happier memories to offset the sad. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Clint and Natasha knew they had to involve Stark in their plans for Peter. The whole point was involving the people most important to them in their day. They just needed to make sure Tony wasn’t onto them. Tony had come close to figuring them out the last time. So they consulted Micro, recommended by Frank Castle (who also warned them he was “a major pain in the ass”). David Lieberman had jumped at the opportunity to outsmart Tony Stark. 

   So they anonymously messaged Tony about the approaching date who, after frustratingly trying to figure out their identity, assured them he knew about the anniversary. They also gave him a heads up about the cruise, assuring him of their intentions. Tony investigated, hired extra security for the cruise, and threatened  them bodily harm if it was a trap, but in the end grudgingly admitted it was a good idea. He told them he’d eventually figure out who the hell they were though. 

   The rest of the plan was pretty easy. Secret bank accounts, filled with money stolen from terrible people to be put to good use were used to book the cruise. Peter had rambled to Clint at breakfast one day about how he liked to cook May’s favorite, pancakes, for her sometimes- so they made a breakfast package. Overall it was a success. They smiled as they looked through the pictures Peter posted from the trip, he and May looking happy.

   They had gotten pretty good at this, which was fortunate. There were a couple of dates quickly approaching and they were going to make sure their teammates didn't feel alone. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my thought with Tony was that he would probably want to hang around the tower and be somewhere comfortable and safe. I also figured he wouldn’t want to be around a ton of people. He’s an extrovert, but this might be a day he’d want peace and quiet since he’d be on edge. That was just my take on his character.
> 
> Also, I get that Tony is a genius that can hack into nuclear codes and shit so he would easily be able to figure out who was tampering with his technology. For the sake of the plot just remember Clint and Natasha are badass spies that have consulted an expert hacker. 
> 
> I've been enjoying writing this so far! I'm working on the next chapter as well as a new story.


	3. Bruce and Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha help Bruce and Thor out on the anniversary of Bruce's lab accident and the destruction of Asgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had mentioned earlier that I didn't research actual dates. So for plot convenience I made it that the anniversary of Bruce's lab accident falls on the same day as the destruction of Asgard. I really like the Space Bros dynamic and wanted Thor and Bruce back together again. 
> 
> This story ignores Infinity War with the headcanon that the Asgardian ship made it to Earth and they set up a colony.

   Bruce closed his eyes and tried to relax into a meditative state. He had done this countless times- it should be second nature to him by now. He tried to even out his breathing and push the negative thoughts from his mind. 

   But all he heard was crashing. The shattering of glass. Screams. Agonizing pain. He knew he was going to die. Worse, he was afraid Betty was going to die. But he didn’t die. Instead he became a monster. 

   Bruce opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked at the heart monitor bracelet. It was still safe, but higher than he wanted. He usually didn’t wear it, but today he knew he’d be on edge and didn’t want to risk it. 

   He decided to make some tea. It was something to do to distract himself. He walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find a new assortment of his favorite teas. He shrugged, figuring maybe Tony decided to stock the pantry. He probably wanted to buy some of the chamomile tea he liked but didn’t want anyone to know it was for him. Bruce knew Tony snuck some from his tea stash every now and then, not thinking Bruce would notice. He was just  happy Tony was ingesting something other than coffee. 

   He took a deep inhale of all the different teas. There was a wide variety ranging from black to white to different herbal teas. He decided to go with a white tea. Black teas didn’t have a lot of caffeine, but he didn’t want to risk it. 

   He was letting the tea bag steep when he heard a loud crash. He jumped and took a deep inhale. He worriedly looked at the heart monitor and was relieved to see it was within normal range. He was used to dealing with loud crashes around the tower, but today was not the day to test that. He glanced down the hall to find a door knocked off its hinges. Fantastic. 

   “FRIDAY, any idea what’s going on?,” he asked. He figured it would be better to call the rest of the team to deal with a threat instead of hulking out in the tower. 

   “It’s Mr. Odinson. He seems to have had an incident with the door,” FRIDAY explained. 

   So Thor was here. Bruce thought he wasn’t supposed to be back for weeks. Thor had been spending most of his time helping to establish the new Asgardian colony. Tony had bought a private island in an area with a similar climate to Asgard. Thor had been working hard to ensure things ran smoothly. Bruce knew he had never really wanted to rule, but he had stepped up to the challenge. 

   Loki had also, surprisingly, stepped up to help Thor. A lot of people had not been happy to learn that Loki would be living on Earth, namely Clint Barton and Stephen Strange, but he had been behaving himself (as best as he was capable).

   Bruce walked over to the hole where the door once stood and saw Thor leaning against the wall with his head in his hands. 

   Bruce cleared his throat, making Thor jump. 

   “Dr. Banner! I did not hear you approach,” Thor said standing to face Bruce. 

   “I just came to see what all the noise was.”

   “The door was stuck,” Thor explained. 

   “So you ripped it out of the wall?”

   “I...may have used more force than necessary.”

   Bruce snorted. That was an understatement. “I thought you weren’t due back for a few weeks,” Bruce stated. 

   Thor shrugged. “I felt that I needed a break.”

   Bruce nodded, not sure what to say. Thor seemed down and not quite his usual self. Sure, he was loud and smiling, but having spent so much time with him in space Bruce could see through the facade. Something was wrong. He didn’t want to push, but he also knew that Thor wouldn’t open up without some prompting.

   “So how are things going on New Asgard?,” Bruce asked carefully. 

   “Fine. We have elected officials, ratified a new constitution, and building is almost complete. Everyone is adapting well,” Thor explained. 

   Bruce was puzzled. He saw a spark of happiness in Thor’s eyes when he was talking about New Asgard. Everything was going well, and he was proud. So what was wrong?

   Bruce nodded. “That’s great. It sounds like everything is moving along quickly. It’s only been…”

   “A year. One year exactly,” Thor stated, looking him in the eye. Oh shit. 

   Bruce couldn’t believe he had forgotten. It had been a year since the destruction of Asgard. He had been so caught up in his own personal drama he hadn’t remembered. Ironically last year he had been so caught up in all of the events going on (and he hadn’t had any idea what month or even year it was) that he had forgotten about the anniversary of his accident. He had never realized the two were on the same day. Of all the fucking coincidences.

   “Shit. Thor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” 

   “It’s ok,” Thor said waving his hand, “Everyone is doing fine. It’s no big deal.”

   “Thor, your planet was destroyed. It is a big deal,” Bruce said, stepping forward. “Are you not doing some sort of memorial?”

   Thor shook his head. “We decided against it. Most of the people do not know how the Midgardian calendar works, so are unaware of the date. We thought it better for morale if we did not announce it.”

   “But shouldn’t you give everyone a chance to mourn for their planet?,” Bruce wondered. 

   Thor sighed and sat on his bed heavily. “I don’t know Banner. There are so many decisions to make. So many voices to listen to. It’s impossible to know what is best.”

   Bruce went and sat in a chair by the bed. He didn’t know what to say. He had no idea what Thor was going through. He had unwillingly had the weight of ruling an entire  people put on his shoulders. Not only that, but a people whose planet and lives had been destroyed. He was having to build an entire nation from the ground up. Bruce had no idea what to say to comfort Thor. So he said the first thing that crossed his mind. 

   “You know, I was just thinking. I hadn’t realized it, because of everything that was happening last year. But today is the anniversary of my accident. The one that made the other guy. The Hulk,” Bruce stated. At least he was able to say the name Hulk now; a few years ago that hadn’t been possible. Maybe he had made progress. “They’re on the same day. What are the odds.” Bruce smiled wryly. 

   “I did not realize...that is a coincidence,” Thor said surprised. The two were silent for a moment. 

   “Well. There is only one thing to do when two brothers in arms are suffering personal tragedy,” Thor stated. 

   “What’s that?,” Bruce asked warily. He hoped it didn’t involve bloodshed. 

   “We drink.” Oh. Of course.

   The two raided one of Tony’s bars. Thor found some German beer he felt would be suitable. Bruce decided on a scotch. Neither of them would get drunk. Being a demigod, Midgardian liquor would have no effect on Thor. And Bruce had a higher metabolism. Not as high as Steve and Bucky, but enough that it would take a lot more than a few drinks to get him even tipsy. This reassured him. Neither of them were drinking as a coping mechanism; they were drinking as more of a friendly bonding experience.

   “I should have brought mead,” Thor said. “This is not too bad though.” He drained half of the large mug with one long drink. 

   “I guess not,” Bruce said smiling. 

   “We should have invited the beer wizard.”

   “Who?,” Bruce asked confused. 

   “You know, the Earth wizard with the cape and weird clothes.”

   “Doctor Strange?”

   “I don’t know his name,” Thor said shrugging. “Just that he has the magical ability to make mugs of ale instantly refill.”

   “You know he’s a master of the mystic arts right? Possibly in the running to be Sorcerer Supreme eventually,” Bruce pointed out. He didn’t think Strange would be too happy to be known as “the beer wizard”. 

   “Whatever,” Thor said as he poured another mug of beer. “I do know that he and Loki do not get along.” 

   “Is there anyone Loki  _ does _ get along with?,” Bruce asked. 

   Thor thought for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

   The two sat and drank for a while with Thor downing several beers and Bruce having two pours of scotch. Thor talked about some of his misadventures training to be a warrior on Asgard. Bruce shared some stories from his college days and early days as a scientist before the accident, when everything had been normal. He had expected talking about the past to make him sad, but instead he enjoyed it. He hadn’t really talked  to anyone about his life before the accident, back when he was only Bruce Banner. It felt good to share that part of him. And he suspected Thor enjoyed talking about the times when he was simply a warrior, and not carrying the weight of being the ruler of Asgard. 

   The two were cleaning up when Bruce notices two envelopes with their names on them. 

   “Thor, look at this,” Bruce said handing him his envelope. He opened his own and read. 

   “What does yours say?,” Thor asked. 

   “It says to go down to the lab for a surprise,” Bruce said warily. 

   “Mine says to go the the conference call room at three,” Thor said, glancing at the clock. He had about twenty minutes. 

   “How did whoever wrote these know you would even be here? Or that we would be at the bar?,” Bruce wondered, looking around the room. 

   “A plane was sent for me. That’s how I got here. I had assumed Stark sent it. There was a message asking if I wanted to take a break at the tower,” Thor explained. 

   “FRIDAY, can you check Tony’s plane log?,” Bruce asked. 

   “I don’t see any indication that Mr. Stark ordered a plane for Mr. Odinson,” FRIDAY explained. 

   “Then who did?,” wondered Bruce. 

   “I don’t know. Whoever ordered the plane seems to have covered up their tracks.”

   “What about the envelopes?,” Bruce wondered.

   “I don’t think it would be an unreasonable guess to predict we’d end up at a bar on this day,” Thor pointed out. 

   Bruce shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. 

   “I can walk down to the lab with you,” Thor offered. 

   “Thanks.”

   The two carefully opened the door of Bruce’s lab and turned on the lights. Everything looked normal. And then they noticed all the new lab equipment. 

   Bruce began inspecting all the new high end equipment, at a loss for words. Being in Tony’s tower, he already had cutting edge equipment and the latest technology, but this stuff was highly specialized and exactly what he needed for his current research. 

   “This looks...expensive,” Thor said looking at a set of specialized test tubes. 

   “Please don’t touch anything,” Bruce begged, remembering the door from earlier. 

   The lab door opened and Tony entered, “Hey Bruce, FRIDAY told me to come down here...oooh new toys.” Tony walked over and began examining one of the electron microscopes. 

   “Do you know about this?,” Bruce asked Tony. 

   “No idea. But a lot of weird shit has been happening the last few months. I’ve given up trying to figure out what the hell is going on,” Tony said with a shrug as he made some adjustments to the microscope. 

   “I received a note saying to go the the conference call room at three,” Thor stated, looking at the clock. He had about ten minutes.

   “Then go. Me and Bruce are going to play,” Tony said not bothering to look up from the microscope’s screen.

   “I guess it’s all ok,” Bruce said, shrugging. 

   “Well then, I’ll go see who I am meant to talk to,” Thor said heading for the door.  

   About five minutes later Thor sat in front of the large conference call screen. FRIDAY had helped him get everything started and sign in. Contrary to what everyone thought, he wasn’t a total neanderthal when it came to technology. A message appeared saying he had a call. From Wakanda. 

   “King T’challa,” Thor said, uncertainty. He still didn’t know what was going on. 

   “Hello, Mr. Odinson,” T’Challa greeted warmly. The two had met briefly several months earlier at an event, but hadn’t really had time to talk. Thor had told everyone that even though he was the ruler of New Asgard, he didn’t want the title of king. It just didn’t feel right for him. He was happy to find T’Challa had remembered. 

   “I’m… not really sure what is happening. I just received a note to meet here at three. So here I am,” Thor explained. “Are you the one behind all of this?” It would be hard for T’Challa to orchestrate all of this from Wakanda, but he was a brilliant man. He could pull it off. 

   “I am not. I received an anonymous message to contact you. I spoke to Mr. Stark and he said that although he does not know who the message is from, he believes it is legitimate.”

   “What did they want you to contact me about?,” Thor asked.

   “They wanted me to speak to you about ruling. I understand if you do not want council on this; I know you have your own close friends and family to advise you. They just believed that our situations are very similar,” T’Challa explained. 

   “How so?,” Thor asked. T'Challa seemed to be a competent and confident king. Unlike Thor who had stumbled into things. 

   “We both lost our fathers. Fathers that we cared about very much. And we have both become rulers of our people before we were fully prepared.”

   Thor nodded. “That is true. And we both have seen our people suffer through trying times shortly after our rule.” Thor had heard about Erik Killmonger and the coup in Wakanda as well as T’Challa’s near death. He had been trying to keep up with global politics now that he was leading New Asgard. He needed to know what was going on in the world around him.  

   The two talked for over an hour, and realized how much they had in common. They talked about the burden of ruling, being warriors, dealing with intelligent younger siblings, and being overthrown by murderous relatives. 

   “I am afraid I must go, but I have enjoyed speaking with you very much Thor Odinson. I would like to continue our discussion again soon,” T’Challa said. 

   “I too have enjoyed talking. I definitely hope to keep in touch. I could use your advice.”

   “Know that you are always welcome in Wakanda,” T’challa stated warmly. 

   Thor smiled, “And you are welcome in New Asgard.”

   “I do have something that may help you. I know a CIA agent, Everett Ross; he is a good man. I spoke with him about helping you with the government relations between  New Asgard and the United States. He said he would be glad to help and should contact you soon.”

   “Thank you. I can use all the help I can get. And if you recommend him I know that he is trustworthy,” Thor said nodding. 

   The two parted ways and Thor realized he felt a slight relief, like part of a burden had been lifted. He hadn’t talked to anyone about his fears of ruling and it felt good to speak to someone who understood. Not only that, but someone who could help. 

   Thor turned to exit the room and saw a package on a table with his name on it that he had missed before. He opened it and was excited to find a large series of books on Midgardian world history. Thor had never been a bookish person, unlike his, but he had been wanting to learn more about the history of Midgard now that he and his people would be living here. He smiled as he easily lifted the heavy box and headed towards the lab. 

   Bruce was still there when Thor entered the room. Tony had left for a meeting. 

   “How did the call go?,” Bruce asked. 

   “Very well. I spoke with King T’Challa.”

   “Does he know who’s behind all this,” Bruce said indicating all of the equipment. 

   “He does not. But we were able to talk about the burden of ruling and he gave me some very good advice,” Thor explained. 

   “I’m glad to hear that. From what I’ve heard King T’challa is a good man. I’m glad you have someone to talk to.”

   “Me too,” Thor said, setting down the box.

   “What’s that?”

   “I too received a gift,” Thor said showing Bruce the numerous large books. 

   “Some light reading material?,” Bruce said flipping through a large volume about ancient Rome. 

   “I hope to learn all I can of Midgard and its history.”

   “These will definitely help. These are good books; I might have to borrow them when you’re done,” Bruce said, eyeing a book on Midgardian science. 

   “Of course. They will be on New Asgard. I hope to start a library.”

   The two sat for a while, Bruce looking at some slides under the new microscope and Thor reading. Bruce suddenly realized that he had forgotten about what day it was. He couldn’t remember an anniversary in the past (other than last year in space) when he had gone most of the day without dwelling on the past. 

   Thor glanced at the clock. “I must be going. The flight to New Asgard is several hours.”

   Bruce nodded, sad to be losing Thor’s company.

   “I was hoping you would join me for a few days. See how it is developing, visit Valkyrie and Loki,” Thor said, looking at Bruce. 

   “Really, you want me come stay for a few days?,” Bruce asked surprised. 

   “Of course! You spent much time with the people of Asgard on the trip to Earth. New Asgard is a second home for you.”

   Bruce smiled. “I could bring some of my new equipment, do some research.” He hadn’t taken a vacation in a while, and it would be nice to see everyone again (even Loki). 

   About an hour later Bruce was packed, and he and Thor were on a plane making their way to New Asgard. Bruce had told Tony about his plans and Thor had called and made plans for the two of them to have dinner with Valkyrie and Loki that evening. Bruce sat back in his seat and relaxed, looking forward to the days ahead.  

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Clint nodded at Natasha as the two of them watched the plane take off. They had pulled off another successful anniversary. They hadn’t realized at first that the two coincided until they started researching dates. 

   This one had been pretty easy. They had sent a plane for Thor, sent a message to T’challa, and snuck in the lab equipment and books. Then they had slipped the notes through the vents at the bar while Bruce and Thor had been distracted. 

   “Alright, who’s next?,” Clint asked, pulling up the list. Oh. This might be more difficult. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and two more anniversaries left!


	4. Matt and Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint surprise Matt on the anniversary of his accident. "Surprise" meaning they have him kidnapped. They later reach out to Stephen on the anniversary of the crash that ended his surgical career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had meant to update sooner, but it's been a rough couple of weeks. But I'm glad I finally got this chapter done. I was looking forward to writing Matt and Stephen because they're such stubborn assholes. 
> 
> **Spoilers for season 3 of Daredevil.** I can't remember if there was language in the previous chapters, but there's language in this chapter. Also, a brief mention of medical procedures and stuff. 
> 
> I do want to take a moment to pay my respects to Stan Lee. He played such a major part in creating this world and these characters we all know and love. He'll be greatly missed.

   Ever since putting Fisk behind bars (again) Matt Murdock had been keeping a low profile and Daredevil and even lower one. Natasha had known about the man’s secret identity for a long time and Clint had put it together a while after her. As far as she knew none of the other Avengers were aware of, or really cared, about Daredevil’s real identity as long as he stayed out of the way and didn’t do any real harm. Natasha, of course, knew where he lived and knew where his office was. Finding him wouldn’t be the hard part really. The hard part would be implementing their plan in a way that Murdock wouldn’t view as a threat. 

   From what Natasha had learned about the man she knew that he valued his privacy and wouldn’t appreciate an outsider trying to meddle with his life, especially his friends. After some deliberation she and Clint decided that for Matt they should use a more head on approach. And she knew just the person to help.  

   Frank Castle took a swig of coffee and adjusted the scope. He was waiting for a certain drug dealing bastard to make his appearance at this shitty dive bar. He had been tailing the man for several days. He’d wait all night if he had to. He tensed as he heard a rustle behind him. He had secured the one roof access; there was no way anyone could get up here. He took a deep breath then whipped around, pulling his pistol from its holster. 

   A figure was standing on the roof, hands held up in a gesture of peace. They had a hat pulled down low so he couldn’t make out their features. But he knew who they were. There were few people capable of sneaking up on him. And stupid enough. 

   “Goddammit Barton,” he grumbled, holstering the gun, “you wanna get your head blown off?”

   “Good to see you too Frank. Nice night for a stakeout,” Clint replied looking up at the clear sky. It really was a nice night. 

   “What the hell do you want?”

   “What? I can’t just happen to be on the same rooftop?,” Clint asked.

   “There’s a lot of rooftops in this city. I’d suggest you pick another one.” Frank went back to looking through the scope, relieved he hadn’t missed anything. 

   “How would you like a chance to piss off Daredevil?”

   Frank paused a moment then turned around, a smile on his face. “Hawkeye, it would be my genuine pleasure.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Matt quickly ran up the fire escape. He had heard the sounds of the fight several blocks away and then several gunshots. Castle. 

   He grabbed a rail and swung himself over. He was supposed to meet Karen and Foggy for drinks tonight, but he had ditched them with complaints of a headache. It had taken a while to shake off their concerns, but they had finally let him go, afraid of pushing too hard. Matt felt bad. They had just gotten things back on track with their friendship and Nelson, Murdock, and Page was really starting to take off. He couldn’t just go back to his old habits of lying to them and hiding behind Daredevil. But tonight of all nights he needed the break.

   With all of the chaos of getting their new firm set up Foggy fortunately hadn’t noticed the date. Matt had thought that time would make it easier, but every damn year it struck him. This was the day he saw the world for the last time; the day he lost his vision and his whole life changed. He could feel the burn of the chemicals and his panic as the darkness closed in. He could see his dad’s worried face disappearing.

   Matt shook his head. He knew he needed a release for all of the tension that had been building up throughout the day. So he had put on the black mask and taken to the streets. 

   He could hear Frank’s heartbeat and smell his distinct scent of gunpowder and coffee. He was about eight feet away and crouched, ready to spring and attack from behind when a thin object came whistling into the alley nearby and exploded. This threw off Matt’s senses for a moment. He refocused himself only to be clotheslined by Frank fucking Castle. 

   “Good to see you Red. It’s been a while,” Frank said with a heavy boot on his chest. 

   Matt was trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him when he had hit the ground, and Frank’s foot on his goddamn chest wasn’t helping. 

   “Screw you Frank,” he managed to wheeze out. He grabbed Frank’s ankle, hoping to make him lose balance, but the man was planted firmly. 

   Frank smirked. “So how’s it been going Red?.”

   “I’m wearing black you dumbass.”

   “I can see that. Finally ditched the devil Halloween costume huh?,” Frank replied. He lightly kicked Matt’s hand as he tried to adjust his hold on his ankle. 

   “What the hell do you want Frank?,” Matt asked in frustration. This was not how he pictured his night going. And definitely not what he needed today of all days.

   “Just wanted to chat for a few minutes, see how things have been going.” Matt heard Frank glance at his watch. “Well, it’s been fun catching up Red. But it’s time to say goodnight.” 

   Frank released his foot and jumped back. Matt sprang up and glared at him in confusion. What the hell was happening? He heard the sound of a projectile and before he had a chance to duck felt a sharp sting in his neck. He cursed, ripping out the small dart. He was about to turn on Frank, demand to know what the hell he was playing at, when his knees buckled. He was surprised when he hit the soft ground. He fought desperately to keep his eyes open as darkness slowly closed in. 

   Frank kept an eye on the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen until he was sure he was knocked out. The last thing he needed was the asshole to play possum and jump him. He carefully pulled the sleeping man off of the matt he had put down earlier and propped him up against the pillar. He chained him up (again) and smirked knowing how pissed he was going to be when he woke up. 

   It had all gone according to plan. Clint had fired the exploding arrow into alley to distract him then had hit him with a mild tranquilizer dart. He wouldn’t be out long, and Frank looked forward to giving him hell when he woke up. Plus with Red detained it meant he could go about his work tonight without the man getting in his way. It was a win win. 

   He wasn’t exactly sure what Barton and Romanoff wanted with Daredevil, but he knew no harm would come to the man. He wouldn’t go as far to say that he trusted the agents, but they hadn’t given him any reasons to suspect negative intentions. Plus it  wasn’t their style to murder someone after hiring someone else to tie them up. Frank looked up as Red started to move, groaning. 

   “What. The hell,” Matt hissed. Things were slowly coming back into focus. 

   “Nothing personal Red. I have orders to tie your ass to this pillar and leave you with this box,” Frank explained, nudging a large cardboard box. 

   “Bullshit. You’re enjoying this you asshole,” Matt replied angrily, pulling at the chains. His fingers found the lock. It would take him a few minutes, but he knew he could get it undone and get free. 

   “Guilty as charged,” Frank replied with a smirk. “Just because I have a job to do doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it.”

   “Who put you up to this? Fisk?”

   “Fuck no. Why the hell would I be working for that bald asshole?,” Frank replied, offended. “No, it’s not Fisk. And its none of your business who set this up.”

   “I say that it is my business considering I’m chained to a damn pillar right now,” Matt replied. He jerked on the chain, dropping the lock he had been messing with. Dammit. 

   “Look Red. Whoever hired me doesn’t mean you harm. Just quit being a stubborn pain in the ass for one moment in your life and go with it,” Frank said as he walked towards the roof access door. 

   “You’re just  going to leave me chained up up here?”

   Frank smirked. “We both know you’ll be out of those chains in fifteen minutes.”

   “Yeah, and then I’m coming to kick your ass.”

   “Sure. Good luck with that Red,” Frank said with a smirk. He opened the roof access door and shut it firmly behind him. 

   Matt listened to his heartbeat descend down the stairs then move slowly out of his range. 

   “Shit,” Matt muttered as he fought with the lock. About five minutes later the lock was cracked and he flung the chains off of himself. Getting chained up a second time by the Punisher really pissed him off. 

   He was about to go tearing after Castle, when he remembered the box. As much as he wanted to kick Frank’s ass, he needed to figure out what the hell was going on here. 

   There were no unique smells or other traces on the box to give him any hints about who sent it. His senses also didn’t pick up anything dangerous like a bomb or poison. So he cautiously pulled the lid open and reached inside. 

   There were several objects. The first one Matt picked up was a rosary; nothing fancy but a nice smooth wood. He had lost his while he was going through his crisis of faith. While his faith wasn’t completely back to where it was before the events of the past few months he was working on it and growing spiritually. He carefully set the rosary aside and pulled out a bundle of cash with a note written in braille- “Drinks are on us. Don’t be an asshole, go meet your friends.” He looked around nervously, someone was obviously following him and knew his identity. And more worryingly they knew about Foggy and Karen. He reached in and found new boxing hand wraps and a pair of escrima sticks. They were top quality made of a light metal that also felt like it could pack  a punch; he had never come across anything like it. He pulled out a larger note, also in braille. 

   “Matt. We know you’ll now be paranoid about someone working out your identity. Don’t be. We can’t tell you who we are specifically, but we work with the Avengers and it’s our job to know about the vigilantes in the city. Your secret is safe with us. The escrima sticks are made of vibranium, the same material Captain America’s shield is made out of; a gift from Wakanda. They are a gesture of our goodwill. We know it’s the anniversary of your accident. As people with our own anniversaries we know how hard it is. So don’t be alone; go and spend time with your friends. And know if you ever need help the Avengers are here”

   Matt sat back for a minute completely at a loss for words. Some mysterious people associated with the Avengers knew his identity, had no intention of revealing it, knew about his accident, and had gifted him ridiculously expensive weapons. There was no way to figure out who it was. They had said they worked with the Avengers; that could be the Avengers themselves, their friends and associates, or any of the countless employees associated with them. 

   Matt tested out the new escrima sticks, amazed at how they handled. He thought over what all this meant. He had allies. Allies that had gotten Frank Castle to kidnap him, but their intentions seemed sincere. He sighed and packed everything back up in the box. He knew what he needed to do. He didn’t need to wallow in his own pity and self-loathing, hiding behind Daredevil. He needed his friends; he wouldn’t push them away again.

   A little while later Matt pulled out his keys to unlock his apartment and smiled when he heard the heartbeats inside. Foggy and Karen. They had remembered what today was. He knew they’d be pissed that he ditched them and went out as Daredevil, but they would be glad he had come back. 

   He’d also have to show them the box and the notes and listen to them try to figure out who was behind it. Karen would probably want to launch an in-depth investigation. Hopefully he’d convince them to let it go. He had people who knew what he was doing, knew who he was, and were willing to give him space. He knew he had someone to turn to if he needed. That was enough for him. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Clint and Natasha sat back, happy with how things had turned out. Maybe kidnapping Murdock wasn’t the best way to go about things, but it was practical. It had gotten him where they needed him to be and had forced him to listen. They knew Matt wouldn’t join the Avengers, but they still wanted him to know he had help if he needed it. 

   “Well, that was exciting,” Clint said putting up his bow. 

   “Trying to work with Frank Castle usually is,” Natasha replied, taking a sip of her tea. 

   “Yeah. The guy can be kind of a dick. But he means well,” Clint replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “At least we got Murdock to stop self destructing and spend time with his friends for a night.”

   “I feel like keeping Matt from self destructing is a full time job.”

   “That’s what his friends are for. Just glad it’s not my job,” Clint replied.

   “Speaking of self destruction, we have another anniversary coming up,” Natasha said, handing him an article. 

   “Shit,” Clint said, taking in the headline. ‘Top Surgeon Involved In Car Accident.’ 

   Strange had one of the most publicly known anniversaries of when his life fell apart, along with Stark. Hopefully he and Natasha could pull off another one of their plans and offer him some help. 

=====================================================================

Stephen 

   Stephen groaned as he carefully sat up. He had been woken up by sharp shooting pains in his hands and wrists. He had managed to get down a couple of pills and lay down until the sharp pains turned into dull throbbing aches. He had hoped these days would be behind him, the days of pain like jolts of electricity that brought tears to his eyes. But he knew these days would never be completely behind him. He would still have bad days. He carefully moved aside the curtains, even that small action making him inhale sharply, and saw the cold rain falling outside. That was why his hands were killing him. Sometimes the cold and rain only made him achy, but sometimes it hit him hard. And of course today of all fucking days it did. 

   His dreams had been haunted by horrific memories. He had also hoped he would be over his nightmares by now, but that also wasn’t true. Sure, nightmares about the accident weren’t as frequent as they used to be. Plus he had other things to have nightmares about (Dormammu for instance), but he should have known that on the anniversary of his accident the nightmares would hit him full force like in the past.

   There had been the sound of crunching and grinding steel, the screech of tires, and a sickening sensation of weightlessness and spinning. A searing pain in his hands as glass and metal slices through nerves, tendons, and bone. Long moments of confusion as he sat in the cold water, blood pooling around him, and rain pouring in. The pain the only thing keeping him conscious. 

   And that hadn’t been the end. There had been flashes of light, Christine’s concerned face, hands all over him, and more darkness. He had woken up delirious several times after the surgery, confused and in pain. Unable to move his hands. He remembered the first time he was lucid enough for Christine to deliver the news: his career was over. His hands were gone. Or at least they might as well have been. 

   Days of helplessness and embarrassment and pain as he had to rely on his former colleagues to take care of his most basic needs. His hands held in traction he had to use a catheter and bedpans and rely on others to change his clothes and feed him. All of this in a haze of painkillers that didn’t quite manage to take away the agonizing pain. Being a doctor should have helped; he had had to help patients through uncomfortable situations and procedures a lot (even though his bedside manner had left a lot to be desired). But his being a doctor and a surgeon made it all the more humiliating. 

   He took a deep breath and shut the curtains. He did not need to sit in the dark and dwell on the past. If he did that it would lead down the path of thinking about his surgical career and what his life could be like if he were still a surgeon. If his hands still worked. 

   He was shaken from these thoughts by the cloak settling on his shoulders, as if sensing his distress. It probably did; he had been tossing and turning all night and a  cloud of melancholy seemed to hang around him. He sighed and used a spell to change his clothes into his usual robes. He normally wouldn’t waste magic on something so small, but there was no way his hands were going to cooperate this morning.  

   Once again he used magic to prepare his tea. He nodded at Wong, who sat at the large oak table reading a book. 

   “Tough morning?” he asked, noting the awkward way Stephen held his mug and the fact he had been relying on magic to do simple tasks. 

   “Yeah,” Stephen replied with a sigh. He appreciated his friend’s understated concern. 

   Wong knew the signs of when Stephen had trouble with his hands, but wouldn’t smother him. Instead carefully keeping an eye on him when he thought Stephen wasn’t paying attention. He’d find ways to help him with tasks without being obvious so Stephen wouldn’t feel like a useless invalid. 

   Although on days like this he did feel like an invalid. Magic helped, but he had to be careful not to overdo it and he couldn’t do spells with more complicated hand gestures.  

    “A package came for you this morning,” Wong informed him, gesturing to the box sitting nearby Stephen had missed. 

   “Do you know who it’s from?”

   “No clue.”

   “Well. That’s great,” Stephen replied, carefully approaching the box. There was no telling what could be in there. Anything from a cursed relic to a portal to another  dimension. Or even just a bomb. There was no shortage of people who wanted him dead. 

   “I did scan the box for any negative spells or curses,” Wong pointed out. 

   “Did you scan it for anthrax?,” Stephen asked as he carefully looked at the package for any outward signs of danger. 

   “No, but considering it came through Stark’s delivery service it should be ok. Unless you really pissed him off.”

   “Right.” Stephen had almost forgotten. Since he started assisting the Avengers on some missions Stark had insisted on any of his mail coming through his delivery service to be screened. It was a precaution for the Avengers and those associated with them ever since someone had tried to mail a lethal virus to the tower. Tony’s security had caught it and once the team tracked down the asshole he was really regretting his decision. Getting thrown through a wall by the Hulk would make anyone rethink their choices. 

   He used magic to open the box. He knew he’d slice a finger off if he tried to use a boxcutter or scissors. Although it might be a welcome distraction from the current stabbing pain in his fingers.  He was confused as he took in its contents. 

   There was a box with the title “Ultimate Music Quiz” that looked like a party game. There was a copy of  _ National Geographic _ with a card saying he had been signed up for a year’s subscription. A box of gourmet teas and coffee with mugs. But the last item was the most interesting. It was a book covered in runes, and even though he had some trouble deciphering the runes he knew it was a book of spells.

   “Wong, look at this,” Stephen said, placing the book on top of the one the man was currently trying to read. 

   “Asgardian,” Wong said after examining the runes for a moment. He carefully looked through the pages. 

   “That’s what I thought. But where the hell did it come from?,” Stephen asked. He knew he was going to need to talk to Thor about this. And unfortunately probably Loki. 

   “There’s a note,” Wong said, breaking him out of his thoughts. He took the paper in his shaking hands. 

   “It’s from Thor. He said he was contacted by an anonymous party and asked if he could give us a book on Asgardian magic,” Stephen said, skimming the note. 

   “Makes sense, since all of the Asgardian people are on Earth now. We should be better equipped to deal with any magical emergencies that might arise,” Wong pointed out. 

   “Yes. Thor goes on to say something to that effect and then tells about how he consulted with Loki about which volume to send to the Sanctum, and Loki, of course, insulted us and the two got into a fights, then something about how these anonymous people that contacted him have been helping others…”

   “That man is very long winded.”

   “You have no idea,” Stephen said with a sigh. He set the note down and looked at the book. “We still don’t know who sent it.”

   “No, but Thor knows we have it. And he seems to trust whoever it is. This would be a good opportunity,” Wong replied. Stephen could tell he was excited to test new translation spells and dig in. 

   “That’s true. We might as well see what we can do with it,” Stephen said with a shrug. 

   The two looked up as they heard some commotion and the door to the Sanctum slamming. A moment later Christine walked in followed by the cloak. 

   “I knocked and the cloak let me in,” she explained. “Which is still weird for the record.” She watched the piece of fabric drift over to the corner of the room and hover. 

   “How are you doing today Dr. Palmer?” Wong asked, inviting her to sit down. 

   They were used to Christine swinging by the Sanctum occasionally. She and Stephen were still good friends. They had decided that now wasn’t the right time for either of them to try to rekindle their relationship. They were still extremely close and Stephen knew why she was here. She knew that today was the anniversary of the accident. She had been there, and it haunted her too. She had seen one of the people she cared about most go through physical and mental agony for weeks. 

   “What’s all this?,” Christine asked. She had finished telling Wong about her day and was looking at the box.

   “Some sort of gift,” Stephen said with a shrug. He didn’t have much else to add. 

   “From who?”

   “No idea.”

   “‘Ultimate Music Quiz’?,” she asked holding up the game. “We’re definitely playing this.”

   “You do realize music trivia is kind of my thing right?,” Stephen pointed out smirking.

   “Me and Wong versus you.” 

   “Fine,” Stephen finally agreed. It wasn’t like there was much else going on. He and Wong could work on the Asgardian spellbook later. They’d have to go to Kamar Taj to get books anyway. 

   So the three of them made tea and coffee from the box, and played several hours worth of music trivia. Stephen, of course, won, but Christine and Wong put up a good fight. Christine had to leave to get ready for a shift and gave Stephen a hug. 

   “How are you doing?,” she asked, not needing to clarify. 

   “I’m ok,” Stephen replied honestly. He had been able to forget for a while what today was, even managing to have a good time. He couldn’t say that about the past several years on this date. 

   “I’m glad. Let me know if you need anything. I’m here.”

   “Thank you, Christine. I mean it,” he replied. He knew how hard it had been on her to see him go through this and how hard she had worked to be there for him, even when he was horrible to her. He would always be grateful. 

   Stephen sat down and glanced at the clock. It still stung to watch Christine leave for a shift at the hospital. She’d be in surgery and he’d be here, wishing he was there.

   “Now that we’re done messing around, we should get started on this,” Wong said, gesturing to the spellbook. 

   “You go ahead.”

   “Oh no. I’m not doing all the work on this. It’s your book, you’re coming with me,” Wong stated, creating a portal. 

   “Fine,” Stephen sighed. Wong was right. The book had been sent to him so it was his responsibility. He could sit around and feel sorry for himself later. 

   The two scoured the library shelves at Kamar Taj and consulted with some of the other masters. Several hours had gone by before they realized it. They had made a lot of progress, managing to recreate one of the shield spells. Stephen looked in wonder at the shimmering runes extending from Wong’s hands. He sometimes forgot how amazing the mystic arts could be, and then he was reminded. 

   He and Wong returned to the Sanctum in high spirits at their success. At this rate they should be able to work through the book in a few weeks. He had been able to pick up a healing slave at Kamar Taj and sighed in relief as it took away the worst of the pain in his hands. They were already in better shape than they had been in the morning and would probably be fine by the next day. That’s how it usually went. 

   The two prepared dinner and shared the latest gossip they had heard at Kamar Taj and laughed about some of the stories. The two reminisced about Stephen’s first few weeks there and how much things had changed. 

   “It’s been an honor watching you grow. You’ve come a long way. Not just with the mystic arts, but as a person,” Wong said.

   Stephen was at a loss for words for a moment. Wong wasn’t one to share his emotions. “Thank you,” he replied with surprise. 

   Wong nodded. The two talked about mundane things for a while, then it hit him. 

   “You know what today is don’t you?,” Stephen asked. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out. Wong knew he came to Kamar Taj not that long after his accident, it would have been around this time of year. There were countless news articles with details about the accident including the date. Some with graphic photos of the crash. 

   “I do,” Wong said nodding. “And I meant what I said. You’ve come a long way. I know it hasn’t been easy. It’s hard to leave an old life behind.”

   “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve been a good friend. Better than I deserve.”

   Wong rolled his eyes, “You need to quit putting yourself down like that. You’re not the same person you were. You deserve friendship and happiness, even if you don’t believe it.”

   The two spent the rest of the evening reading. Stephen flipped through the issues of  _ National Geographic _ . He had missed reading science articles, and had missed science in general really. He couldn’t bring himself to read neurobiology articles, at least not yet while things were still so fresh. He might be able to eventually. But for now he was happy to read about biology and ecology and look at the amazing photos. 

   As he drifted off to sleep that night, the cloak laying over him like a blanket, Stephen smiled. He had prepared himself for another horrible anniversary. But instead he was reminded of all the things he had gained in addition to what he had lost.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   “It looks like our work here is done,” Clint said, looking at their list. Stephen had been the last person.

   “Is it?,” Natasha replied. 

   “We covered everyone on the list.”

   “On that list. But we have a lot of other team members and they have a lot of anniversaries,” Natasha suggested. 

   Clint smiled, “So we making a new list?”

   “Yeah. Let’s do it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on an epilogue chapter in which Clint and Natasha create a second list and enact their plans. However, they may come across a surprise or two.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha work on a second list and receive a surprise of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a lot longer to finish this than I anticipated. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and had left kudos! This is a story I had been wanting to write for a while and it feels good to finally finish it.

   As the year went on Clint and Natasha made their way down a new list. 

-T’Challa: the death of King T’Chaka 

   King T’Challa had been dreading this day. Even though it had been several years since his father’s death, it never got any easier. He had been fortunate enough to see his father on the ancestral plane, but it wasn’t the same. The worst part was seeing his mother and sister upset and knowing he couldn’t take their pain away. Because he too was facing that pain. 

   It was early and he decided to go for a walk before having to face the day. There were a lot of events planned. While part of him wanted to stay busy, to distract himself. Another part just wanted to be left alone. 

   He had never thought he would be king so young. He had always thought his father would rule for many long years and that he would have time to prepare. It was  definitely how he would have wanted it. But life so rarely went the way people wanted it to. He constantly drew on the wisdom his father had passed on to him, and wished that he was there to give him more. There was so much more he could have learned from his father. 

   He still felt uncertain at times that he was making the right decisions and ruling the country the way his father would have wanted. It was at these times he had to turn to his family, his friends, and the people of Wakanda for strength. Today was one of those days where he needed strength. Not only for himself, but to be strong for his mother and Shuri. 

   T’Challa had gone a little ways into the gardens when he noticed a box. He carefully approached and examined the medium size box. He pulled out his Kimoyo beads and scanned the package. Once he was satisfied there wasn’t anything dangerous inside he carefully opened it and looked inside. 

-Loki: falling from the Bifrost 

The former prince of Asgard stood surveying the lands of New Asgard. Years ago if someone had told him he would find happiness on Midgard he would have thought them mad. But it had happened. He had finally found some sense of peace and purpose. 

   However this day was one that had stayed with him through all of the tragedies and the triumphs. There were a lot of dark days in his life: the death of his mother, his attempt to take over Midgard, the death of his father. But it seemed like everything had started that day he fell from the bifrost. That one moment had changed his life.

   It was incorrect to say he fell really. He had let go. Consumed by his grief and sense of betrayal he had thrown himself away from everyone and everything that he had known and loved. He had been ready to end everything.

   He still remembered the sickening feeling of falling. He often woke in a panic with that dropping feeling in his stomach. The colors had blurred and faded and his body had gone into shock; he didn’t remember hitting the ground. But he remembered the pain after. And all of the horror after that. And the feeling of knowing that he had failed yet again. 

   Despite all of the pain and sorrow of that day, it had brought him here. To think the day that he had clashed and broken away from his brother had led him to a day where he was happily by his brother’s side as he ruled. 

   Loki sat down on the bench in the garden near his home. He needed a minute to compose himself before the meeting of the New Asgardian Leadership Committee. He set his head in his hands and took deep calming breaths, a technique he had learned from Banner of all people. He happened to notice a glint of silver. He looked down to see a box wrapped in silver paper. He ran a quick spell, and sensing no evil or enchantments carefully opened it. 

-Sam Wilson: death of his flight partner in Afghanistan 

   Sam stared at the familiar picture like he always did on this day. He had a lot of pictures of Riley; some during their time in Afghanistan, some before. But he always came back to this one. It was taken the same day Riley had died.

   They had flown countless missions together and made a good team. They had each other’s backs in the air and on the ground. They had both seen fellow soldiers die, and had seen them wounded and broken down physically and mentally. Sam and Riley were there for each other and their fellow soldiers when things seemed darkest. 

   Sam had always thought that if he were to die, or to lose a friend, that it would be in combat, in a battle he had known was coming and had prepared for. This was, of course, a ridiculous idea. Everyday he saw and heard about soldiers dying while performing mundane tasks or going on patrols they had done hundreds of times. He knew people didn’t always die in the heat of battle. But he still hadn’t expected to lose his friend and partner so quickly and unexpectedly. 

   It had been a straightforward mission. It wasn’t without its risks, but he had been through worse. Someone had taken a picture of him and Riley earlier in the day. He hadn’t known it would be their last together. 

   He didn’t remember what he and Riley had talked about while suiting up, and he only remembered bits and pieces of the night. The alarms that had gone off when the weapons had been spotted, the flashes of the RPGs, the yelling and chaos. Then the explosion and the sickening numb feeling as he watched his friend fall from the sky. It still haunted him in his dreams. 

   All of the years had done nothing to lift the pain of that day, but he had learned how to live with it. To stop wondering what would have happened if they had done things different or what if it had been him.

   Working with Steve and the Avengers definitely helped. Everyone on the team had lost people they cared about and had seen good people die. They understood. It also gave him something to do to distract himself. He sighed and put the picture away carefully. He went back into his living room to grab his cup of coffee and froze when he noticed the box. Not knowing where it had come from he used the app on the phone Stark had given him to scan it. Seeing as it seemed clear, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and carefully opened it. 

-Bucky: falling from the train

   Bucky bolted upright, choking back a scream. The words ran through his head in Russian- longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen… The words no longer held the power to turn him into a murderer, but they still had power over him in his nightmares. Flashes of the recent past ran through his mind, images of pain, confusion, rage, screaming. Not knowing who he was or what he was doing. And of course he was haunted by all of their faces. All of the people who had died by his hands. He had finally accepted the fact that he wasn’t himself and wasn’t acting of his own free will when he killed those people, but that didn’t really make it any easier. 

   He sighed and got out of bed, his heart rate finally slowing as he did the breathing exercises Sam had taught him. He and Sam liked to give each other a hard time, but Bucky knew he was a good guy and he was grateful to him for helping Steve and being by his side. Sam had dealt with his own share of tragedy and had chosen to help other people. He was a lot like Steve in that way. Bucky only hoped to be as strong as them  and somehow help others. It wouldn’t erase what the Winter Soldier had done, but it would be a start. 

   He decided to fix a cup of tea and read for a while. It was still too early to go to the gym without arousing suspicion. His sleep had gotten a lot better in the past year, but he still had rough nights. It made sense today would be one of the bad days. Steve had been watching him like a hawk the past few days. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to. This day was ingrained in both of their minds forever.  

   It definitely hadn’t been easy for Steve. He had watched his best friend fall to his death. And Bucky knew Steve felt guilty despite the fact that there was nothing he could have done. That one fall, a fall that should have killed him, changed his life forever. Made him a different person. He was only just now getting back to some version of who he used to be. Thanks to Shuri and the other scientists and doctors in Wakanda he had his mind back. He no longer had to fear someone using him as a weapon. He had finally been able to focus on healing. 

   He hadn’t thought it was possible, but things were pretty good. He had Steve and the rest of the team to support him. He was seeing a therapist that Sam had recommended, something he had never thought he would do, and it was helping a lot. Thanks to Shuri and Tony he had an arm that worked properly and wasn’t in constant pain. He has even set about getting an education, taking some online classes in science. 

   He picked up his book on biology and read for about an hour until he felt his eyes growing heavier. He caught himself jerking awake the few times he began to really drift  off, his anxiety at having another nightmare getting the best of him. But finally he sank deeper into the couch and drifted off to sleep. 

   He woke up again, a lot calmer this time, and was surprised to see the time. He had managed to get a few more hours of sleep in. He was supposed to meet Steve in the gym in about an hour. No doubt if he was just a minute late Steve would be kicking his door down demanding to know if he was ok. 

   Bucky took a surprised breath when he noticed the box on the table nearby. His adrenaline spiked until he reminded himself that he was in the tower with one of the most advanced security systems in the world. 

   “It’s safe Mr. Barnes, I’ve already checked it,” FRIDAY said, seeming to read his mind. 

   “Do you know who it’s from?,” Bucky asked. He was normally a light sleeper, not many people would be able to get the jump on him. Then again, he had been pretty exhausted last night. 

   “I don’t. I believe whoever left it wishes to remain anonymous,” FRIDAY replied. 

   Bucky shrugged. It was probably someone who knew about the day and wanted to make him feel better but not have to be all emotional about it. He understood. The team liked to be supportive of each other but none of them were great at sharing and expressing their emotions. 

   He picked up a letter opener he had sitting nearby and quickly opened the box. He needed to hurry up so he could meet Steve at the gym and then spend the rest of the day hanging around the tower with the team who had unexpectedly become his family.

-Wanda- death of her brother

   Wanda choked back another sob as she looked through the album. She knew it was a form of torture to make herself look at these pictures, but it also helped. She couldn’t look at the pictures of her and Pierto and their family without a crushing wave of sadness. And so she only allowed herself to look through them on certain days. Today being the anniversary of her twin’s death was one of those days. 

   The thing was, after the crushing and dark sadness there came a period of something that wasn’t quite happiness, but something light, as she looked beyond the death and grief and remembered the happy times and memories that went along with the photos. They said that time is the only thing that could heal her wounds, but she didn’t think she would ever be really healed. A part of her died that day. 

   The team was worried about her; Steve had come to talk with her that morning. She had told him she needed her space, and he had understood. But he had also told her it wouldn’t be good to be alone all day. So they had reached an agreement- Wanda would spend the morning and afternoon alone and would join up with him later. He understood that she needed space and wasn’t in the mood to socialize, but he also didn’t want her sitting in a room alone all day. 

   Wanda understood, and she was ok with spending time with Steve if it made him feel better. She knew he wouldn’t push her to talk; they could sit in silence and it would be ok. If she was being honest Wanda was actually looking forward to not being alone. She didn’t want to talk and she didn’t want consolation- she just wanted to be near someone she knew cared.

   Clint had gone to the cemetery with her that morning. Neither of them had said anything. They didn’t have to. Wanda knew Clint still felt like Pierto’s death was his fault, even though she had told him countless times it wasn’t. It was good to have Clint’s solid presence with her that morning. He was another person who understood her grief and not wanting to talk. 

   About an hour later she closed the album and carefully put it away. She decided to take a shower in hopes of hiding the evidence of her crying. She knew everyone would understand, but she didn’t feel like walking around with red puffy eyes. 

   When she exited the shower and came back into her room she was surprised to see a box sitting on the table by her bed. She let a tendril of red magic brush against it, and didn’t feel anything. She figured it would be safe to open. It was probably one of her teammates reaching out. She smiled slightly and grabbed a pair of nearby scissors to open the box. 

   Later, Clint and Natasha were sitting on the balcony watching the sunset. Clint had been unusually quiet all day after coming back from the cemetery. Natasha knew this was a hard day for him and that he still carried around a burden of guilt that he didn’t deserve. She thought that Clint might finally be beginning to accept that it wasn’t his fault what happened to Pierto. But she knew that seeing Wanda grieving for her twin was hard on Clint. Knowing he wouldn’t want to talk, Natasha put a hand on his shoulder in support. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   There was a third list, one that they would show no one. It had all of their anniversaries, the many dates that had changed them and shaped who they were, for better or worse. The Red Room, the hospital fire, Clint being brainwashed by Loki, losing his hearing, and so many more. So many dark days. 

   It was one of those days that Clint and Natasha found themselves sitting in Clint’s living room at the tower. It was the anniversary of when Loki had mind controlled him and had begun his plan of taking over the Earth. It had been a terrible day for them both. Natasha had had to watch one of the people she cared about most go through having his brain messed with. Something she knew about all too well. 

   It had been several years, and Clint was doing a lot better. Those days after had been hard though. When the initial excitement of defeating Loki had worn off and the team had scattered, Natasha had been there for him as he tried to put the pieces of his life back together. They had made it a tradition to hang out on this day and try to distract themselves from the bad memories. 

   They were in the middle of a competitive game of Mario Kart when the alarm went off. The call to assemble. Groaning, Clint paused their game and saved it. He had a blue shell and had been about to blow Natasha’s Yoshi up. 

   “I know what you were about to do,” Natasha said with a smirk. 

   “We’ll finish it when we get back,” Clint replied.   

   “I know you’re looking forward to coming in second place.”

   “I won’t be in second place when Bowser blasts your ass with a blue shell,” Clint said, grinning.

   “We’ll see,” Natasha replied cryptically. 

   The two made it to the door of the common area and were about to enter when Bruce walked over. 

   “Hey, any idea what’s going on?,” Clint asked. He hadn’t seen anyone around. Usually when there was a call the tower became a madhouse as everyone scrambled to get ready. 

   “Yeah, about that. There actually isn’t a call. We just needed to get you two up here,” Bruce replied. 

   “Get us up here for what?,” Natasha asked suspiciously. 

   “It was supposed to be a surprise, but we figured surprising you two might end badly,” Bruce explained. Clint grinned and Natasha nodded. “Everyone’s waiting in the common room.”

   Clint and Natasha looked at each other confused. Bruce opened the door and the two of them followed. Bruce had been right, everyone was there. 

   There was a giant banner hanging up that said “We know you did it. Thank You.” 

   Clint and Natasha walked over to the assembled group. All the members of their list. 

   “We figured it out,” Tony said, coming over with a drink. “You’re busted. We know you’re the ones who’ve been leaving those packages and setting things up.”

   “Took you long enough to figure out,” Natasha replied. She had thought Tony would have been on to them a lot sooner.

   “Well, you didn’t exactly make it easy,” Tony said. It had taken him a long time to follow all of the tracks. He had had his suspicions it was the two of them, but he had wanted proof. 

   “That was the point,” Clint stated. He and Natasha had even sent themselves packages at random times in order to draw away suspicion. 

   “Well, we’re all grateful. Even if it was a huge invasion of privacy,” Tony said with a shrug. 

   “Seriously? That coming from the guy who violates cyber security laws on a daily basis?,” Clint said, shaking his head. 

   “Plus everything we found out was public knowledge,” Natasha added. 

   “True, but some of your efforts were not so legal,” Tony said. 

   “Are you referring to Micro?,” Natasha asked. 

   “I was referring to you hiring Frank Castle to kidnap Matt and then drugging him. But yeah, hiring a hacker is also illegal,” Tony said with a grin. Fortunately Matt had no hard feelings. 

   “It worked didn’t it?,” Clint stated. 

   “Yeah, I’d say it did.” Tony looked at all of their friends gathered. Everyone was socializing and having a good time. They all had been through terrible things, and seeing them experience some relief and happiness on those tough days made Tony happy. “I  did want to thank you. For what you did for Peter.” 

   Natasha smiled. Peter had become like a son to Tony. “Of course.”

   “Thank you. For today,” Clint said quietly. He knew that Tony was aware of what the day was. That he had planned the party as a kind of distraction. 

   “It was partially Steve’s idea. Once I told him what I had found out. You know, today is what brought us all together in the first place. Sure, it was terrible and dark. But once we got traction and kicked ass it was pretty awesome,” Tony said. 

   “Yeah. I guess that’s true,” Clint replied. He knew Tony was right. Despite the circumstances, it was what had brought the team together. And he would always be grateful for that. 

   He also knew he wasn’t the only one affected by that day. Loki had been avoiding all contact with Clint. He knew that this was a tough day for him. The two of them weren’t close, but they had made their peace with each other. Thor seemed to be keeping a close eye on his brother. Just like Natasha was keeping a close eye on him. 

   “This is pretty cool,” Clint said, sitting down with a drink.

   “Leave it to Tony Stark to solve a mystery and throw a party about it,” Natasha said with a smirk. 

   “I bet he’s a pain in the ass to play Clue with,” Clint replied. Natasha laughed.

   “He’s a pain in the ass to play anything with.”

   The two sat for a while and enjoyed their drinks. One by one their teammates came up to them and thanked them. Some of them opened up about their tragedies and some simply offered a thank you. But all of them were grateful.

   Clint and Natasha knew that not only did they have their team’s back, but everyone had their back as well. They would all have horrible days, but they’d be able to get through them together.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New game: which Mario Kart characters do all of the Avengers play as? I feel like it ways a lot about a person which character they pick. It's like a personality assessment lol.


End file.
